


Baby Steps

by DarkeAngelus



Series: The Post X-Factor 259 Series [2]
Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, X-Factor (Comics)
Genre: Allegations to rape, Angst, Barn cat, Canon Gay Relationship, Canon Pairing, Character trauma, Christmas, Explicit Language, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mojoverse, New Years, blizzard, child birth, cute little baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 21:33:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3462815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkeAngelus/pseuds/DarkeAngelus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Layla Miller goes into premature labor, it becomes painfully clear that things are far from alright between Rictor and Shatterstar when they are called to assist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> This story was meant to be posted right after New Year's, but I had it saved on a thumb drive and lost the stupid thing. I just found it today as I was sorting through my clothes in preparation for a trip to the laundromat. Sorry for the late posting. Enjoy!

Layla first said it casually during breakfast: 

“You know, we should invite Rictor and Shatterstar up for a visit.” 

Jamie nodded and put it away to the back of his mind and later forgot about it as he and several dupes readied the farm equipment for proper winter storage in the barn. 

Four days later, she said it again during supper. “It’d be really nice if Star and Ric were here.” 

“Uhm hm,” Jamie said distractedly as he shuffled bills with one hand while shoveling food into his mouth with the other. That money from Harrison Snow for selling the rights to the name of “X-Factor” was coming in handy right now. Between extensive home renovations, buying new farm equipment, and getting the overgrown fields prepared for crops meant that this year, after everything was harvested and sold and all calculated out, the Madrox Farm had fallen into the red. At least he didn’t have the financial burden of paying labor costs (although several of his more rebellious dupes had demanded wages and threatened to report him to the Farm Labor Board. He absorbed those troublemakers in a hurry). It wasn’t a bad deficit, all things considered, and he was already thinking how to make things better for the next year. The transition from superhero to farmer hadn’t been an easy one, but he was adjusting to the lifestyle with remarkable ease. 

Watching her distracted husband mentally process the paperwork, Layla fell silent and didn’t push the issue. In the background, the television in the living room was calling for a dramatic shift in weather conditions. 

A blizzard hit the next day and was still roaring through the night when Jamie suddenly woke up with a howl of pain. He managed to switch on the nightstand lamp and came face-to-face with his flushed and panicked wife who had her fingernails dug into his shoulder. “You need to call Ric and Star NOW!” 

“The baby? The baby’s coming? But it’s-“ 

_“Jamie!”_

He realized that his side of the bed was wet and when he pulled back the sheet, he discovered that her water had broken. 

And it was pink. That got his ass moving in a hurry. 

Less than ten minutes later, Rictor and Shatterstar stepped through a blazing X-shaped portal and appeared at the front of the Madrox farmstead. Ric was struggling with pulling on a T-shirt over his bare chest and froze in mid-action due to shock. They looked around at the raging snowstorm and then shared an almost comical look between them. 

"C'mon you two!" Jamie shouted from the front door. 

Ric was cursing a steady stream of Spanish as he and the Mojoworlder ran for the comfort of the house. " _Pinche idiota!_ You could've told us we were heading into a freaking blizzard, _pendejo!_ " He was only wearing sandals and began shaking his feet on the porch like a pissed-off cat that had stepped in water. 

"We'll argue about it later. Hurry up!" Their former boss snapped, leading them up the stairs. 

Once they entered the bedroom, Rictor took one look at the scene and promptly freaked out. “ _Holy shit!_ You’re early! Aren’t you early? _This is too freakin early!_ ” 

“Only by a couple of weeks,” Layla said, pausing to breathe through a sudden contraction. Jamie was running around the room in panicked-soon-to-be-father mode and stuffing everything he could get his hands on into a duffle bag. “Jamie! My hospital bag is in the closet!” 

“Gotcha!” He pulled it out and proceeded to stuff that into the duffle, too. 

“Why the hell did you call us? Your car broken or something?” Rictor rounded on the other mutant who was jumping around on one leg as he tried pulling on a pair of pants. 

“Why? Are you going to go outside and shovel in _that_ get-up?” Jamie remarked, pulling on a sweater even though it was inside-out. In addition to the T-shirt, the Mexican was wearing a pair of cargo shorts and suffering a severe case of bed-head; his dark hair in wild tangles. Star was slightly more composed, but certainly not dressed for the weather in his black jeans and yellow wife-beater. His trademark red hair was tied back in a short ponytail. 

“I might as well. It’s a two hour recharge for _him_ before he can teleport again or have you forgotten?” Ric angrily inclined his thumb over his shoulder at Star who was helping Layla pull on a sweater over her nightgown. 

“Not in this case,” Star rumbled. “Madrox collect your wits and then your wife. I can take us to the hospital right now.” 

In the background of all the frantic action, Rictor cast a confused, resentful glare at his partner while Jamie gathered the overfilled bag and then carefully picked up his wife as if she were made of glass. As a unit, they went downstairs and braced themselves against the snowstorm as they stepped out of the house. 

“Do you have the image in your mind?” Star inquired, crossing his swords in front of him. 

Panting, Layla gripped her stomach and managed a palsied nod. 

He created the gateway. “We go then,” the Mojoworlder declared, and the four rushed into the portal of light and disappeared. 

 

* * *

Grady Memorial Hospital was snowed in. There was minimal hospital staff who had managed to make it in for their shifts. Police were advising that people stay off the roads and one highway was closed due to an eighteen wheeler that had jack-knifed and fallen over on its side, blocking both directions of traffic. Layla’s obstetrician had no way of making it in and the only doctor on duty was trying to handle her early labor with the barest threads of self-control. The last time Dr. Meisner delivered a baby, he had been an intern (not that he confessed that to the expectant father who looked like he was stuck in a mode somewhere between tears and outright panic already). It helped that his wife was keeping her composure. One word or gesture was all it took to get her harried man under a modicum of control. 

The other two that the couple arrived with (dressed like they were supposed to be boarding a plane to Florida) were in the waiting room after a brief scuffle with security. One of the men had been armed with swords and hadn’t taken too well with having them confiscated. The doctor chalked it up to someone who probably watched just a _little too much_ of Game of Thrones and left a voicemail for the Psyche department. 

Ric and Star had the waiting room to themselves. Each were sitting on opposite sides of the room, sulking. For Shatterstar, it was obvious why: He didn’t like anyone so much as touching his swords let alone taking them. For Rictor, it was a far more personal dilemma; one that began nagging away at him the month after Star showed up in Vermont. Just as he was opening his mouth, the Mojoworlder got to his feet and began walking to the door and Ric’s question turned to: “Where d’you think you’re going?” 

“To retrieve my swords. It’s time to leave.” 

“What? _Now?!”_  

Star looked at him. Those faded blue eyes were hiding behind the hair that had fallen across his face making his expression difficult to decipher. It didn’t really matter. For the last four months they’d been on earth, his expression hadn’t changed much. “It has been nearly two hours. I have rested long enough.” 

“Don’t you want to wait around and see the baby?” 

And at _that_ , Star’s face filled immediately filled with hot blood. “No.” 

Ric slumped back in his seat. “Tough shit.  Jamie and Layla are our friends. I’m not gonna bail on them. We’re staying put right here and that’s final.” 

Star glowered at him, silently deliberating. There would have been a time when he would have argued; tried to plead his case; explain his motivations, but those days were over. Without a word, he spun on his heel and shouldered open the door to leave the room, almost bowling over Jamie. He spared the other man a brief glance and continued on his way down the hall without comment. 

“What the-?” Jamie looked after him for a few seconds and then over to Rictor. “He okay?” 

Ric only offered an exasperated wave on the subject. “How’s Layla?” He said instead. 

“They’re prepping her for surgery,” Madrox said and made it to the nearest chair (barely) before his legs threatened to buckle underneath him. “The baby’s turned breach since the last check-up. She’s going to have to have a C section.” 

The Mexican patted his shoulder. “It’ll be okay, man. Hospitals do that shit all the time. They’re prepared for it.” 

The older mutant was shaking his head. “There was something about the way Layla looked. Like this was a surprise to her. You know how rare that happens, Ric.” 

“She was losing her touch even before things all went to pieces. You gotta remember: It’s not prophecy, it’s forced memory. Hell, anything that has to do with time displacement screws shit up. Believe me, I know.” 

There was an undercurrent to that last sentence that Jamie immediately picked up on. He might be distracted by the prospect of becoming a father, but it hadn’t dulled his instincts. “You and Star having problems?” 

“Your wife’s in labor, man. This isn’t the time-“ 

“I need to get my mind off it – even if it’s just for a couple of minutes- or I’m going to start climbing the walls. I’ve got time until the doctor calls for me.” 

Rictor sighed and sat forward and rested his elbows on his knees, staring down at the floor. “When I lost my powers, I had no idea how much of a pain in the ass I was for you guys to deal with.” 

Jamie released a low whistle. “That bad, huh?” 

“At my worst, I’d get shitfaced and mouth off until you or Rahne would get tired of my bitching and set me straight. Star, he-“ Ric rubbed the back of his neck. “He’s just... shutting down. I don’t know what to do.” 

“You guys were fine when you were staying at our place.” Jamie caught himself. “Well, maybe not _fine_ -“ Shatterstar had had a far more difficult time adjusting to Earth than Rictor. They stayed at the Madrox farmstead for almost two weeks before moving down to Mexico. “But Star was talking. Socializing. I know that being stuck in the Mojoverse all those years left its mark, but I figured he’d have come around by now.” 

Ric was shaking his head. “It’s more like the opposite.  He’s angry. I get that. But I really think more happened to him there than he’s letting on. He won’t talk about it. He won’t-“ He stopped there. This wasn’t the time or place to talk about their sex life (or lack of it). “I’m just about at my wit’s end with him to be honest.” 

That roused a response out of Jamie; a merciful distraction from what he knew what was happening down the hall with his wife. “Ric, I’ve put up with your shit for as long as I’ve known you. M-Day was just the icing on the cake. It’s only been four months with Star for Chrissakes. You’re going to have to be patient. I know that quality isn’t one of your stronger suits-“ 

Ric’s face darkened. “Screw you.” 

“Touched a nerve, did I? Good. It means you know what I’m saying is true. He pulled you out of your depression. Now’s the time for you to step up and repay the favor.” 

“But I don’t know how!” Ric said in dismay. “What do I do? What _can_ I do?” 

“Just be there for him,” Jamie said with authority. He cast a glance around the waiting room and then to the door before turning back. “He needs you now more than ever, even if he doesn’t realize it. Don’t you dare cut and run-“ 

“I swear, man, if you say ‘like Mexico’ I’ll punch you in the face!” He was actually starting to raise a fist in mock threat, but lowered it just as quickly. He was angry, but it wasn’t at Jamie. “And... Yeah, okay. You’re right. You’re absolutely right. I owe it to him, but... I don’t like it when he keeps stuff from me. Like before with Layla.” 

“You mean the teleporting.” 

“Yeah. I mean, I know she’s an anchor. Like me and Longshot. But there has to be more to it because he was able to do it right away with her without having to take a rest. I can only think that he... they-” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. 

Jamie said gently. “Yes, they slept together, but-“ 

“You _knew?!”_ Ric looked close to punching him again. 

“Layla told me before we got married. They were stuck in Latveria and Doom was using her for his own amusement. She was getting addicted to his magic in a bad way.” Jamie looked away for a moment, gathering his thoughts, choosing his words carefully before he spoke again. “I don’t know the specifics. All she would tell me was that she was high from spell casting and Star was in the vicinity. It just... happened. Magic amps his teleportation. That’s why he didn’t have to recharge when he used her as a telepathic anchor back at the house.” The mutant added a bewildered shrug, which was just about the only thing one could do whenever the topic shifted around to the subject of magic. “If their sleeping together hadn’t happened when it did, she might have stayed in Latveria.” 

“She was hooked that bad?” 

He only offered a reluctant nod. 

In the beginning, Layla had been a creepy, annoying little brat that had only moderately changed when she came back older and (supposedly) more mature. It had taken Rictor a long time to warm up to her. Even longer to add her name to the list of his extremely limited number of friends. But she _was_ there, and Ric was fiercely loyal to the ones who managed to make the cut. “So that’s why they don’t talk about it. Either of them.” 

“No. Layla feels ashamed about the whole thing. Star?” Jamie shrugged again. “Maybe he knew it was the only way to get them out of there. Whatever the case, they made a pact to never bring it up.” 

“Gracias, Jamie,” Ric murmured. He hadn’t realized just how much it had bothered him until now. Layla eventually married Jamie and Star had remained steadfast with him. It shouldn’t have even mattered. Damn his stupid unfounded insecurities. Some things just never seemed to change. “Gracias...” 

“Where did Star go?” 

Rictor looked around the room like he was coming out of a spell. “He wanted to bug out of here, but I reined him back in. I haven’t heard the PA system calling a Code Red so he must have found somewhere private to sulk.” 

Jamie’s eyes sharpened on the younger man’s face. “He wanted to leave?” 

“Yeah, before Layla even had the baby. Pretty insensitive, huh? I’m sorry, man. I’ll make him apologize when I-“ 

“Christ, Ric! Don’t you get it?” Jamie snapped. “Go find him and get the hell out of here.” 

“No way!” Ric was stunned to be the target of anger. “I want to stay and see how things turn out.” 

 _“Rictor!”_  

“Mr. Madrox?” A nurse opened the door and looked in on them. “We have your wife prepped and she’s asking for you. Will you come with me, please?” 

“I’m coming.” Jamie jumped to his feet. He spared one last glance at his friend before leaving the room with the nurse. “Find Star and go. That’s an order.” 

The door swung shut and Rictor slumped back in his seat in a huff. “You’re not the boss of me,” he grumbled under his breath. “Those days are over and done with, amigo.” In defiance, he grabbed a magazine and hunkered down to wait for the baby’s arrival.

 


	2. Part Two

It took three tries with the candy machine spitting out his change before Shatterstar clued in that Mexican pesos weren’t the accepted currency at the hospital. He shouldn’t have been surprised by this, but in many ways it was like being on earth for the first time all over again. There were so many similar little nuances he had forgotten during his seven years in the Mojoverse as Arize’s personal lab monkey. 

Wandering the halls took him down to Emergency, which was nearly deserted. It was preferable to the floor he had been on; where he could hear the distant cries from the nursery of recently born infants. Just two from the sounds of it. Two too many. In minutes or hours there would be a third voice to add to that unbearable caterwaul. The sound went through his head and seemed to burrow straight down into his guts, making him feel nauseous and out of sorts. He didn’t want to be here and Rictor wouldn’t let him leave. If he could explain his reasons, he would, but it would only make the questions start all over again. Ric had finally stopped asking them and Star was both relieved and saddened by that. He knew he was alienating the only person he ever cared for, but he seemed helpless to stop the deterioration. For all he knew, the damage to their relationship was already done. Maybe the day would come when he would find a note on his bed again. This time, there would be nobody to blame but himself. And Mephisto. 

And fekting _Arize_. 

The glass doors of the Emergency entrance slid open and there was a confusing explosion of activity that burst inside along with the howling wind and stinging snow of the raging blizzard that still had the county in its grip. When the doors slid shut again, Star could make out what was happening; two men in uniforms and a prone form on a gurney went quickly past him into one of the many empty rooms. Whitecoats seemed to appear out of nowhere to assist. 

“-snowmobile accident.” One of the paramedics was talking to a nurse while he was doing chest compressions. “Wouldn’t’ve even seen him if the damn thing hadn’t been on fire. It’s probably the only reason he’s not a popsicle. God knows how long he was out there.” 

“Somebody page Dr. Meisner-” 

“He’s performing a C section on a woman who went into premature labor.” 

“Well, Christ. Who else is here?” Asked the other paramedic who was ventilating the patient while a second nurse began cutting away the blood-soaked parka. It took some effort. The clothes were partially frozen to the man’s unresponsive body. 

The head nurse was prepping some IV bags. “It’s a skeleton shift. Who you see is who you’ve got.” 

“Maybe we can- _Shit!_ I can’t do this anymore.” The paramedic performing chest compression jumped off the gurney and reached for the defibrillator. “Pull that shirt up,” he said, setting the charge and grabbing the paddles. Once the chest was exposed, he moved in. “Clear!” He shocked the man, whose entire body spasmed on the table. He looked expectantly at the heart monitor that was hooked up and saw only flat-line. “Give him some adrenaline, Johnny.” 

“Already there,” his partner said and punched a needle that looked about a foot-long through the patient’s sternum to administer a dose directly into the heart. At the same time, a nurse was pulling back a bandage that had been applied to the side of the man’s head exposing a grievous skull injury. Brain tissue began spilling out. She slapped it back in place in a hurry, not losing composure as she applied another compress, but her face had visibly paled. “Guys-“ 

“Charging up to 220. _Clear!_ ” Another Jolt. Another lifeless convulsion. 

 _“Guys!”_ The nurse shouted. Her arms were coated with gore up to her elbows. “He’s a lost cause. Half of his brains just fell out. Just... Look, just call it. There’s nothing here to save.” 

“Fuck,” one of the paramedics mumbled, scrubbing his face in frustration. He looked up at the clock. “It’s seventeen minutes past three in the morning. Nobody in their right mind should have even been out in that-“ He flinched as there was a blast of bitterly cold wind. Leaning out of the room, he saw the exit door sliding shut and turned back to the staff in confusion. “Was there somebody here?”

 

* * *

Kelsey Madison Madrox was born at four thirty-three a.m. There had been a brief flurry of concern when Dr. Meisner seemed unable to get the infant to breath but, within seconds, Layla and Jamie and the few staff in attendance were gifted with the sound of someone stridently protesting this rude arrival into the world. 

“Six pounds, nine ounces. Strong heart and a really healthy set of lungs, if the crying is any indication.” The doctor said, smiling behind his surgical mask. “Congratulations to you both. It’s a beautiful baby girl.” 

The nurse placed the swaddled baby in Layla’s waiting arms and she started laughing and crying as she cradled the precious bundle; a combination of exhaustion, happiness, and sheer relief. She had been dealing with a puzzling sense of dread all week that she couldn’t articulate. It wasn’t like her usual fore-knowledge of events; just a feeling that something was very wrong. Or going to _go_ wrong. The fact it didn’t involve her innocent daughter was like a load lifted off her shoulders. Right now, it was the only thing that mattered to her in the entire universe. 

No. That wasn’t true. There was another person who mattered just as much. Jamie was standing beside the bed watching the two bond as the doctor went back to finish the caesarian procedure. There were tracks of tears marking both cheeks and such of look of wonder on his face that Layla’s heart surged with love for her man. “Do you want to hold her?” 

That dazed, contented look suddenly evaporated and became one of alarm. Almost immediately, he was back in that hospital room with Theresa Cassidy and their newborn son. A son who had been fathered by a dupe and became one that he inadvertently absorbed. He still had nightmares of the terrible sensation of absorbing the newborn’s burgeoning sensory input and disorganized thought processes. He might have well have absorbed an alien; it would have been no less chaotic to his system. 

He started pulling away from the bed and Layla caught the sleeve of his sweater, pulling him back. “It’ll be okay.” 

“I-I don’t-“ 

“You’ll both be fine,” she said and added three familiar words that erased all of his lingering doubts. “I know stuff.” 

He was shaking so badly that he had to sit down on the edge of the bed. Swallowing nervously, he accepted the tiny pink bundle, being careful to only touch the fabric. “Oh god,” he choked. “She’s so _beautiful-“_ His voice broke and he gently kissed the tiny forehead, feeling the fuzz of hair on his lips. He was expecting the worst from the contact; waiting for the small body to evaporate like mist and his system to rebel to an unwanted absorption. 

One second passed. Then, five. Finally, the infant bawled, as if asking, ‘ _What the hell are you doing?’_ It shocked Jamie out of his stupor and he burst into relieved tears, holding his daughter as tightly as he dared. “She’s real. _She’s real!_ Oh, thank you- _Thank you!”_ He leaned over and smothered Layla’s face with grateful kisses. “She’s beautiful. You’re beautiful. You did it, honey! I’m so proud of you!” 

“ _We_ did it,” she told him, kissing him back and wrapping an arm around them both. 

An hour later, Layla was moved to a private room and Jamie was sitting in a chair beside his sleeping wife, humming absently to the baby in his arms. The nurse had taken her away for a more thorough physical check and to be cleaned and had just returned. Jamie couldn’t keep his eyes off of the treasured newborn in his arms. “You’re a little miracle, you know that?” he murmured in a low voice. “Maybe someday your mother and I will tell you about our lives. About how we beat all the odds in order to have you.” He paused to give that some thought. Remembering the pain of untold injuries, the losses of friends and allies, the sheer horror of missions gone terribly wrong. There had been good times, but in no way did they outnumber the bad things that happened to a mutant in this day and age. “Then again, maybe we’ll spare you those details. You probably wouldn’t believe them anyway.” He chuckled. 

There was a tentative knock at the door and a familiar head with a shaggy mop of dark hair peered inside. “Hey!” Rictor stage-whispered. “Can I come in?” 

Jamie was in proud-poppa-mode and never even registered any surprise to see his friend still in the hospital. Their conversation back at the waiting room might as well have never even happened. “Sure,” he whispered back. He was nodding his head for the Mexican to come inside because he didn’t want to disturb the baby or Layla. 

Almost walking over on his tiptoes, Ric knelt beside them and looked closely at the baby. _“Ay, l _ _a__ dulce niña bebé,”_ he said in a soft voice very different from his usual terse way of speaking. He ran a finger gently along one rosy cheek and beamed up at Jamie. _“Felicidades en la llegada de su preciosa bebita. Ella està bonita._ _”_   

“Gracias,” Jamie murmured. At one time or another, ones of his dupes had learned Spanish and it was a language among several he was fluent. “God, she is perfect, isn’t she?” 

“Well, except for being bald,” Ric joked. “Think I can buy a little toupeé off E-Bay?” 

“Knit her a cap and we’ll call it square,” Madrox said and noted the look of surprise on Ric’s face. “Yeah, I know all about that particular skill set. Rahne told me about the scarf you made her.” 

“Did she tell you it was a disaster? I gave it to her on her birthday way back when we were New Mutants. It was little more than knots.” 

“Rahne loved it, though. And so will _she_.” He nuzzled the top of the baby’s head. “We named her Kelsey Madison.” 

“Aw, that’s sweet,” Ric said, only half listening as he stared adoringly at the little girl. There was a sad half-smile on his face. He genuinely loved kids. When Theresa had gone into labor, he had risked his life to save her and her unborn baby. When Rahne had dropped the bombshell that her baby was his, he had been pissed at the terrible timing... but, secretly a little pleased in the bargain. Being gay, he figured it was likely his only kick at the can. He’d been devastated when it dawned on him he couldn’t be the father even before Shatterstar confirmed his suspicions on the subject. 

 _Star..._ Rictor remembered the little baby with the star birthmark almost covering the left-hand side of that tiny face. He had stared at that child for hours before being forced to step back and allow it to be placed into a paradoxical time-loop like some living puzzle piece. The whole scenario had bothered him for weeks afterward- 

He suddenly sharpened his gaze on Kelsey. _“Madre de Dios...”_  

Jamie was alarmed to see his friend’s tanned face go pale. “What’s wrong?” 

“The baby. It was about the baby all along. That’s why he wanted to get outta here. I’m such an idiot!” Rictor spared his friend an urgent look. “Please tell me you’ve seen him.” 

“Star? No, not since he stormed out of the waiting room.” He looked up at the clock. “Holy crap, that was over three hours ago. You haven’t found him yet?” 

“I wasn’t even looking. I fell asleep-” 

 _“Rictor!”_  

That furious outburst woke Kelsey, who immediately started crying, and _that_ woke Layla. There were a few seconds of confusion on her face until she remembered where she was. She started to smile at Rictor when her expression changed and not for the better. All at once, that sensation of something being wrong returned with a vengeance. This time she knew exactly what it was. “Oh god, Ric. You need to go down to Emergency-“ 

From their room they could hear the sound of the PA system. _“Paging Dr. Meisner. Dr. Meisner. You’re needed in the ER. Stat.”_  

“You need to go right now!” she shouted. Kelsey began wailing in protest to all of this unnecessary racket. 

Side-stepping a curious nurse, Rictor slipped out of the room and went for the stairs. He rushed down them as quickly as he could, jumping the last few steps in his haste to get to the ground floor. There was shouting coming from where the Emergency Room was located. A body went flying past just as he stepped around the corner; almost slamming into him. The guard landed far down the corridor and slid a good ten feet before coming to a rest. Rictor ran over to check on him and was relieved to find a pulse. The guy was stunned from the impact, but appeared to be unharmed. 

More shouting. Ric could understand the words now and they were in Cadre. _“Ejai’kte mei foojkies, Mojofekt’ky!”_

 _Suck my balls, Mojofucker,_ Ric translated as he ran over to one of the examining rooms. _Huh. Never heard that one before._ The curse came out sounding slurred and he wondered if Star had managed to find some alcohol somewhere. The Mojoworlder was one temperamental drunk. 

A huge yellow snow-plow truck was idling outside of the Emergency Room doors. The driver was with a nurse and guard and they were both staring nervously at the room where all the activity was happening. Looking inside, Ric saw a tense stand-off taking place. On one side was Doctor Meisner and several nurses and on the other- 

“Oh god,” Rictor whispered in horror. 

Pressed into the far corner of the small room was Shatterstar. His clothes were stiff with packed snow and his bare arms and face were bone white from severe exposure. His hair resembled orange icicles and there were patches of frost clinging to the exposed areas of his skin. In various places where he had flexed his muscles, the skin had ripped like tissue paper. Both of his hands were bluish-grey and frozen into partial claws from the severity of the frostbite. _“[No more needles! Get away from me!]”_ He was raving. 

“Star! You have to calm down!” Ric called. He started to go to him and someone made the mistake of grabbing his arm. It was one of the guards who they had argued with over the warrior’s swords. Not even wasting time with an explanation, he repelled the man backwards with a weak seismic jolt. “Back off, jefe!” 

“...Julio?” Star tried to stand and couldn’t manage the feat. He was only wearing sneakers which were now unrecognizable snow-packed lumps so god knew what shape his feet were in. It was obvious he was hypothermic but he wasn’t shivering and that was a very bad sign. When Ric gently touched his bare shoulder, the skin was ice cold and hard to the touch. 

“Ay Dios,” he hissed through his teeth. Star’s cheeks and nose were badly wind-chaffed and his lips and ears were tinged blue from poor circulation. His eyebrows and lashes were coated white with frost. Ric figured his healing factor must be working in overdrive to try to compensate for this level of exposure. It was a miracle he wasn’t dead. “How long were you out there?” 

Star tried to pass him a puzzled shake of the head, but his coordination was poor so the act came off looking like a convulsion. He tried getting to his feet again, like some critically injured animal that just wanted to run away and hide, and collapsed against Ric instead, panting from the effort. Just holding him made the Mexican start shivering, as if the close proximity was sucking all the heat his body could spare. “You-you’re going to be okay-” He tried to sound positive but he could feel the thready, erratic rhythm of Star’s heartbeat. “Just try and calm down.” He spared the doctor an urgent stare, begging for help. 

When Dr. Meisner took a tentative step forward, Star whipped his head around and released a roar of warning. He backed up so violently that he dented the drywall behind him. _“[Enough of your tests. Come any closer and I’ll fucking kill you!]”_  

It finally dawned on Rictor what was going on. Switching languages to Cadre, he told the warrior: _“[That’s not Arize. It isn’t Arize! We’re back on earth. We’re in a hospital. Let them help you. Please!]”_  

 _“[Mojo trickery.]”_ Star muttered and extended his hands. _“[We go home. NOW!]”_  

“Oh shit!” Rictor turned to the doctor and staff. “Everybody hit the floor! He’s calling his swords. _GET DOWN!”_ Everyone was too dumbfounded to move. Cursing, Ric placed his hand flat on the floor and made it heave, knocking everyone off balance and sending the civilians sprawling just in time. Star’s swords punched through whatever walls or doors they were locked behind and answered the summons, sailing over heads that might have been decapitated if not for Ric’s quick actions. 

Star caught one of the weapons, fumbling with the hilt because of his frozen hands. The other hit his fingers and broke at least two. He barely noticed; too lost in delirium to register the pain. He managed to hold them in a clumsy grip and crossed them, trying to create a teleportation portal. It was hazy and indistinct until Rictor had no choice but to call up a mental image of their house. 

The bright X portal appeared in the cramped emergency room, shearing off the floor tiles and ceiling panels and cutting the bed in half. Before dragging Star through, Ric caught sight of Jamie running towards them. He held up a palm in caution and then the two went through the gateway and disappeared.


	3. Part Three

Rictor and Shatterstar’s home was located on an island off the Pacific coast of Mexico. There were few tourist attractions here, mostly in the form of two marinas that attracted deep sea fishermen looking for a record catch of shark or sailfish. For the most part, Rictor and Star were left unbothered and if the occasional hiker stumbled near their territory, they didn’t linger long. The area was considered unstable and prone to inexplicable earthquakes even though the island chain of Revillagigedo wasn’t located near a tectonic plate or known for volcanic activity. It was a place considered “off limits” to tourists and that was just how the two mutants liked it. 

When the pair left Madrox’s farm it had been by unanimous consent that they would go back to Mexico. It wasn’t a place of good memories or personal connections (Julio had been disowned by his surviving family after the two’s vigilante exploits against Ric’s gunrunning relatives), but it was familiar territory and far beyond the US hysteria over mutants. At this point in their relatively young lives, they were entirely discontented with the super heroic lifestyle and just wanted a secluded place to lay low and call their own for awhile. 

Cyber hacking into the Mexican ATF Bureau, it didn’t take Rictor long to find exactly what they were looking for; a modestly palatial home that had been owned by a gun-trafficker who’d been busted by the authorities. The government had seized the estate and was in the process of auctioning it off. Rictor knew from personal experience with his own family home that it was a process that took months to a year and by then the place was usually vandalized or firebombed beyond salvage. Considering all of their unrecognized (and unpaid) efforts in stopping the illegal sale of deadly weapons in the country and abroad, they figured they were owed a reward. Star could make his portals horizontal as easily as he could vertical. All they needed was somewhere secure to take the house. 

Google Maps provided the spot; an isolated cove on Isla Socorro. Rictor cleared the area with carefully manipulated seismic blasts. He even raised a shelf of bedrock to act as a stable foundation and to protect the place from potential flooding. Star teleported the 3900 square-foot mansion exactly down on that slab. He’d had to cut it off at ground level, so it no longer had a basement, but it was a home. The first one they ever had together. 

During the process of decorating, repairs and improvements, it was Ric who did most of the talking. Star listened and even participated in some dialogs, but for the most part he was quiet and appeared to have lapsed back to his X-Force persona. That manic, sex-starved side of his personality had left while the silent, brooding warrior returned with a vengeance. He refused to talk about his seven-year ordeal as Arize’s lab specimen. He tried to avoid any discussions that had to do with the Mojoverse. He became visibly upset when the topic shifted over to Dazzler or Longshot. Conversations became verbal landmines that Rictor had trouble navigating. So, it was inevitable that he moved to something well-known between them that didn’t have to involve words. He had been stuck in Mojo’s gladiatorial kennel for four long months and now that he had Star all to himself he had every intention of making up for lost time. 

One afternoon between repairs, lying together on a former gun-runner’s king-sized bed, Julio kissed Star and was relieved that kiss was reciprocated. Star had almost gone mad from all those years of not knowing whether his partner was alive or dead. He had been honest when he’d confessed his love back in Madrox’s hayloft. It was just about the only thing about him that hadn’t changed. 

 _“[I missed you.]”_ He said over and over between adoring kisses. Cadre had returned to being his dominant language for obvious reasons. _“[You have no idea how much I worried.]”_  

 _“[I felt the same way.]”_ Ric ran his hands impatiently through that thick red hair and had to smile. _“[You have to keep growing that out. God, I forgot how much I missed it long.]”_  

 _“[No scissor or blade shall touch it.]”_ Star promised, sparing him a smile that was all too rare lately. 

Just seeing it made Ric harder than he’d been in ages. He grabbed Star’s hand and placed it on his bulging crotch. _“[This is what you do to me.]_ ” He said, groaning when he deliberately rubbed against that contact. _“[You drive me crazy, Gaven.]”_  

Star recoiled in shock. Moving over to the edge of the bed, he looked at Ric as if the Mexican had punched him. “Do not call me by that name.” The switch to English was clear indication that the moment between them was over. 

Dazed by the sudden absence, Ric looked over at him in confusion. “... huh? That was your choice. You told me to call you that, remember?” 

The anger drifted over to disgust. “I was wrong to ask that of you. That name belongs to another. I’m not worthy.” 

“Star-“ 

“‘Shatterstar’ was an arena call-sign made up by one of Mojo V’s programmers when I was promoted to Primetime.” He frowned. “Gaveedra Seven is my true name.” 

“That’s a friggin’ designation. It’s not you. It’s sure as hell not what Dazzler-“ 

That was as far as he got. Star got up and left the room without so much as a backwards glance. 

They tried again a week later when emotions had calmed down. This time Ric kept his mouth shut and for a while things went smoothly. They were bare-chested and Star had his hand down the front of Rictor’s shorts, rubbing that straining erection while he mouthed one bronzed nipple. He was taking his time becoming reacquainted with that tanned body. While the experience had been a complete nightmare, Ric had to admit being a gladiator involved one hell of an exercise regime. He was currently sporting a build he hadn’t possessed since X-Force. He shamelessly luxuriated his athletic body under Star’s exploring touch like a horny tomcat. 

When he felt that tell-tale precursor to an approaching climax, he gently pried Star’s hand loose and pushed him onto his back. “My turn,” he murmured, nuzzling Star’s throat before placing languid kisses down that muscular chest. The scars of Arize’s tests had faded to memory and all that was left was unmarked perfection. Even better, Star was hard. There was no mistaking the erection tenting his swimming trunks, but when Ric touched him, he flinched and drew away from the contact. 

Rictor looked at him in confusion. “Star?” 

The warrior would not meet his eyes. “I’m not- I-I want- Julio, just let me pleasure you. I’m fine with that.” 

“Well, I’m not. That’s not fair. C’mere and let me-“ He started reaching for him again and Star got off the bed to get away. 

“I’m sorry, Julio. It’s not you. It’s-” He appeared to want to say something more but thought better of it and left. 

The next few times were little different. Just once, nearly at his wits end from sheer sexual frustration, Ric let his partner fellate him to orgasm, but he felt terrible afterwards when Star refused reciprocation. It was like their fledgling relationship shortly after they had left X-Force; Star had been eager to give but reluctant to receive, still stuck in a slave-mode where personal pleasure was discouraged. His trials under Arize appeared to have restored that default. 

“It’s okay, you know,” Ric tried to tell him one night as they lay in bed together. Despite their intimacy problems, they still slept in the same bed even though there were three others in the sprawling house. He got the distinct feeling the first time they slept apart it would become a permanent thing. He wasn’t sure why he suspected that, but he sure as hell didn’t want to let it happen _just in case_. 

Star was lying on his back with his hands folded behind his head staring bleakly at the ceiling. In a defeated voice that was almost a whisper, he responded with, “Nothing is okay, Julio.” 

Ric had his head propped up with one arm and managed to force a smile on his face. “We have this incredible house all to ourselves. We’re safe here. We’re free from anyone hurting us or telling us what to do. It’s okay for you to relax. To be _happy_.” 

Star looked at him for a long time. Unexpectedly, he leaned forward and took Ric’s head in his hands and kissed him hard. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against his boyfriend’s. “I’m trying,” he said, his light blue eyes boring into the worried dark brown ones of his bedmate. Before the Mexican could do or say anything, Star rolled over to go to sleep. 

By the time they got Madrox’s call, they were sleeping in separate rooms. Each were across the hall from the other, but separated nonetheless. When the house was finally made livable, the void between them broadened. Without the diversion of fashioning a working well system, adding gravity-fed toilets or rewiring the house circuitry to handle the solar panels, there was very little they could talk about. Even the blessed diversion of television appeared to have lost its appeal to Star. He rarely watched it anymore. Rictor simply gave up because he was out of options on what to do or say to him. As a last resort, he figured that maybe some distance would lessen the pressure he was putting on his best friend. Instead, Star appeared to take that as some sort of abandonment and stopped communication altogether, making the situation between them even worse. 

The day after the debacle at Grady Memorial Hospital, Star was back in Julio’s bed. Ric was out in the corridor talking with Jamie on a satellite phone. “-yeah, his healing factor took over when I got him settled but, man, it was a terrible thing to watch. His fingernails and toenails fell off and grew back. His skin got these huge blisters all over the place. His nose and both ears went dark purple for a while-“ 

“Okay, okay. Enough. I get the mental image,” Jamie said. He was sitting on the bed beside Layla and had his cell on speaker mode. They were still at the hospital. The baby was blissfully nursing away, but Layla looked like she was turning green from the details. “So he’s okay?” 

“I think so. He’s all healed now. Just sleeping.” Ric spared a glance into the room and saw nothing but a twisted-up ball of blankets with a shock of red hair poking out. “Did you ever learn why he went out in that storm?” 

“Actually, I did. Seems he saw some snowmobiler die in the ER and rabbited out of there. The snow plow driver found him on Highway 31 trying to thumb a ride.” 

“How-how far away is-?” 

“Almost twenty miles. He was heading south, Ric.” 

Rictor slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor. “You tried to warn me,” he said bleakly. “Being in a hospital. Layla giving birth. You tried to warn me and I didn’t listen. _I fucking fell asleep!_ ” 

“What’s done is done,” Jamie sighed. 

During the pause, Layla spoke up. “You need to talk to him, Rictor.” 

“Don’t you think I’ve been trying?” 

“I don’t think you’ve been asking the right questions.” 

 _“How the hell would you know?!”_ He shouted into the receiver and got only silence in return. Of course Layla knew about what was really gnawing away in the pit of Ric’s heart. His concerns. His suspicions. His goddamn fears. She knew about stuff because that was what she did best. 

“Listen, she was only-“ Jamie was trying to cut into the terse silence and the Mexican hung up on him. He sat in the hallway for the next half hour, cradling the phone as he tried to compose his thoughts. With a sigh, he finally got up and walked into the bedroom. 

“How are they?” Asked a muffled voice beneath the many throws on the bed, startling him. 

“You heard?” 

“It isn’t as if you were whispering,” Star said, pulling the blankets down and looking over at him. It could have been meant as a friendly jab or clear-cut sarcasm. At this point, Ric wasn’t sure anymore and cared even less. 

“They’re good. Layla’s okay. She gave birth to a healthy daughter. They named her Kelsey.” 

Star accepted the information with a mute nod. Maybe his reaction would have been different if the child had been a boy. It was hard to say. Ric took advantage of the lapse and sat on the side of the bed beside him, pulling one of the warrior's hands free for closer inspection. "If not for your healing factor, you would have lost both hands for sure," he murmured. "Your feet, too. Hell, what am I saying? You would’ve died. What were you thinking leaving like that?" 

"That hospital... It was like Arize's lab. The smells. The medical equipment. Corpses of clones that didn't survive procedures." Star shook his head. "I think I panicked." 

"You don't do that. You've _never_ done that." 

The Mojoworlder stared bleakly at the far wall. "Not before Mephisto, no. But now..." 

Tired of stepping around the subject, Ric took Layla’s advice to heart and blurted out: “Did Arize rape you?” 

Shatterstar didn’t look as surprised by the question as Ric would have thought (or hoped). It was as if he had been expecting it for a while now. “Arize is as without gender as all Spineless ones are,” came the defeated answer. “But, also like them, he was intensely curious to witness the act." 

Feeling indignant fury rise up inside him, Ric fought to contain it. Between clenched teeth, he demanded: "What did that prick make you do?!" 

It didn't help that Star chose to sidestep the question entirely. "I was not loyal to you, Julio. I’m sorry.” 

Ric wiped his face with a trembling hand. He had seen the clones; some up close and personal. Others still in their gestation tubes. Some male. Some female. Some fucked-up anthropomorphized animals: All flesh constructs that didn't know jack shit about sex except for the half Terran-half Mojoworlder that had landed in Arize's lap thanks to Mephisto. Of course the scientist would have wanted to watch Star have intercourse with his favorite creations. Or vice versa. All Spineless Ones were fascinated by it. 

 _Seven years,_ Ric thought helplessly. _Star was a prisoner in that lab for seven fucking years. What other sick shit did Arize force on him?_ Asking for specifics was no good. Star could find his way around a verbal response as easily as he could a physical attack. It was how he had managed to keep his sanity intact in the Mojoverse. The only problem was that those old walls were back with a vengeance and getting in the way of trying to reach him. Rictor had to find another approach around the grim subject. Neither of them were talkers, but he had to take the lead here. 

Forcing images from his mind with difficulty, Ric took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, and then slowly let it out. It helped keep the raw emotions at bay, but not by much. In a deceptively calm voice, he managed to get out; "I'm betting you didn’t have much of a say on the subject.” 

Star had been eying him warily, like an animal expecting a firm reprimand (probably in the form of shouting or a beating). He slowly shook his head. 

“Then that makes it rape whether you wanted to do it or not.” Rictor’s words turned hoarse with emotion. “It means you don’t have anything to apologize for. You hear me? I tried pushing you into doing more of the same even though you made it damned clear you weren’t ready. I’m the one who's sorry.” 

Sitting up in bed, Star regarded his partner, taking careful measure of his face and posture, before turning to look out of the window. This room had a spectacular view of the inlet and faced east. It would be sundown soon, if the position of the shadows were any indication. Silently deliberating, he finally blurted out the question he had been holding back ever since he had been relegated to the spare bedroom. “Would you like me to leave?” 

Ric stared at him in confusion. “Huh? _Hell no!_ Why would you even ask me something like that?” 

Marshalling his warrior composure, Star managed to speak in a steady voice despite how terrible he felt on the inside. Some days he swore he could actually feel his soul, his _uemeur_ , bleeding. “I have watched the satellite television. That season of Christmas is coming and charitable organizations are making their annual pleas for donations.” He dropped his eyes and murmured softly, “Humans do not appear to want badly used things.” 

Ric said directly into his face, “You’re not some _thing!_ Understand? You’re half-human-” 

“Arize said I was inferior. Flawed.” He spoke the words without inflection, as if he had come to believe them and that –of all of the terrible revelations of this day- wounded Julio the most; to see his best friend and lover fall so far that he couldn’t even see his own self-worth anymore. 

“You know that all Spineless ones have had a hate-on for humans ever since earth broadcasts drove them batshit crazy. If you were so damned unworthy, then why did Arize use _your_ genetic code to create all the clones? You ever think about that? It’s because you’re unique.” 

“But-“ 

“No, man. No buts! You might've been given the stage-name of Shatterstar, but it suits you. It really does. Not just because of _this._ ” His fingers gently touched the perfectly formed birthmark that outlined the Mojoworlder’s left eye. “It fits because when you fight, it’s like you explode. It’s more than action. More than anything I’ve ever seen. It’s like the physical equivalent of a raging super-nova. It’s who you are and what you do. Gaveedra Seven is a name that belonged to some dead kid. You’re not even Ben Russell anymore. He’s dead, too. Your real name is Gaven Blaire.” Ric kissed him tenderly. When he finally pulled back, he said in a softer voice, “Most important thing of all: You’re my boyfriend and I love you.” 

Star appeared stunned by the speech, looking shocked. Staring into the Mexican’s serious, concerned face, he was at a momentary loss for words. He knew that Julio was not a man who liked to talk because he had often said he lacked the patience to put his emotions into words. He preferred action instead of speaking; of using violence instead of putting up with negotiating. It was a trait among many they had in common. To hear such an earnest expression of his feelings and thoughts put to words touched him deeply. It managed to penetrate some of the pall that surrounded the Mojoworlder most of the time these days. He swallowed and offered a faltering smile in response. “Thank you, Julio,” he whispered. 

Ric tried to wave it off. “What? For that? I’m just stating the obvious, is all.” 

“I’ve never thanked you for delivering me. I never thanked you for- _Fekt._ There are so many things that you did! For me and for my- For Dazzler.” This was the first time that he had ever willingly brought up the upsetting circumstances of his birth. 

“What was I going to do? Let you spill out on that filthy ground like a friggin’ calf?” 

“I know you were angry with what I did. You should not have had to-“ 

Ric kissed him again and pulled him close, burrowing his face into the hollow of his shoulder. He wished he could put into words how he felt when he was this close to Star. It was more than comfort or adoration. More than love. How could you possibly explain something you'd never felt before? “Stop worrying about it. It’s all water under the bridge.” 

“Does that mean I can come back to your room?” 

“Aw dude, you were never kicked out. I just thought you needed some space is all. It's our room. It always has been.” Ric smoothed back an unruly lock of red hair from the other man’s face to see it better. “As usual, we got our wires crossed. I missed you.” 

“I wasn’t far.” He started to gesture to the door until Ric grabbed his hand and squeezed it. 

“It was far enough,” the Mexican said. He got into bed beside Star and they lay down together. The Mojoworlder fell back into a heavy doze, still spent from using his healing factor in such an unconventional manner. Rictor didn’t. He spent the next few hours staring at his sleeping partner and privately playing the conversation they’d had over and over in his mind. When he shed his outraged tears, he was grateful that there was no one to see them. 


	4. Part Four

In the living room of his family home, Jamie Madrox was goggling up at the Christmas tree with almost the same expression of awe as the small baby he was holding. Layla managed to snap a photo of the dumbfounded pair before he rounded on her. “Stop doing that. It’s like you’re the paparazzi.” 

“I can’t help it. You both look so adorable,” she said, smiling. “You have that look on your face every time you stare at that stupid tree.” 

“That’s because, in a way, it’s like the first one for the both of us.” He looked up at the tall, decorated spruce with adoration. “I was very young when my parents died, so all I remember are the presents. And the trees at Xavier’s or the other places were always communal. This beauty? This one is all ours. I don’t want to ever take it down.” 

She came up beside him, wrapping an arm around his waist. “It’s getting way past the new year. I don’t want to vacuum up needles anymore. Don’t worry; this’ll be the first one of many." 

“Please tell me it’s because you know stuff, because I _really_ want that to be true.” 

“No regrets? Former-super-hero-mutant-turned-detective-now-organic-farmer?” 

“Phew! That’s a mouthful.” 

“Perhaps later tonight, you’ll give me another?” She batted her eyelids at him and playfully twirled a lock of hair between her fingers. 

“Shameless,” he scolded. He looked down at his infant daughter who looked like she was drifting off to sleep. “You’re making inappropriate comments in front of a minor.” 

“Oh, like she can understand what I’m implying.” Layla rolled her eyes. “If you’re so offended, what do you plan to do about it, Detective?” 

“Mn. I can think of a few things. First-“ He started whispering into her ear and she burst out giggling and slapped his shoulder. “You know the doctor said I have to wait six weeks.” 

“I know that. You didn’t let me finish-“ His lips were near her ear again and whatever he suggested managed to make her blush. “Wow,” was all she could say after he pulled back. “How long did it take for you to think up _that_?” 

“Since puberty,” he admitted, making her laugh again. “So what do you say I get this little angel all settled down so that I can go down on y-“ 

She stopped him with a finger on his lips. “Hold that thought.” There was a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “We’ll have to wait for a bit.” 

Jamie was already beginning to sprout a boner of hope and he sputtered. “Wait? What? _Why?_ ” 

“Don’t you hear that?” 

“I don’t- Wait a minute.” The television was playing and Jamie repositioned the hold he had on his daughter to reach for the remote and mute it. Then he heard the god-awful racket coming from outside. “Ah crap. I just thought it was that blasted cat howling to be let in,” he grumbled. 

She lightly slapped his cheek while she walked out of the living room. “Suck it up, honey. Let’s go greet them.” 

Even before he got to the front door, Jamie had a pretty good idea what they would find. He recognized the tune or at least the slurred, enthusiastic variant that was currently being shouted from outside his front porch. It was Rictor’s favorite bar song, one that he always mangled on the nights when Guido or Longshot had to drag his sorry ass back to X-Factor HQ after a night of too much drinking. 

 _“One shot...Hey! More tequila!_  
 _Two shots...Hey! Hey! Que veneno!_  
 _Three shots...Hey! Ay yi yi yi yi yi yi yi yi y-_ “ 

He had to admit that he was pretty ticked off at the interruption (especially at the poor timing) but had to betray a laugh when he opened the door. Ric was down on one knee in the snow belting out his tune to the front of the house while Star stood some distance away from him, as if his insanity might be a contagious thing. At least they were dressed for winter this go-around. Rictor looked quite comfortable in a lined denim jacket and jeans. Shatterstar looked like he was prepared for an Antarctic expedition with his heavy parka and snow pants. The ensemble was topped with a bright yellow and orange cap complete with earflaps, pom-pom, and tassels. In that get-up, he was almost unrecognizable if not for the starburst birthmark. 

 _“Yeah, ya can drink the water, but don't ya eat the ice!_  
 _Take your vitamin ‘T’ with salt 'n lemon slice!_  
 _I say- One shot...Hey! Mas tequila!_ ”

The instant the Mojoworlder saw Jamie, he grabbed his partner by the collar and hauled him quickly to his feet, calling out: “Let us in. _Please._ This is embarrassing.”   

“Oye mano, an ere I was jus gettin to de good part.” Rictor had largely perfected his American accent during his time in the States, but when he was drunk it always came back with a vengeance. Jamie privately mused that it made him sound more like Borat than Banderas. 

Layla was absolutely no help. She was bent over holding her knees she was laughing so hard. Jamie nudged her aside to let the pair into the house. Ric ambled past them, but Star hung back, eying his former boss warily. 

 _No,_ Jamie realized. _It’s the baby he’s staring at_. “Shatterstar, it’s okay. She doesn’t bite.” Despite the nature of this strange visit, Kelsey was remarkably accepting of all the commotion and blinking owlishly at everything as only a newborn could. 

“I know that,” Star said, but he didn’t budge. Mercifully, Rictor whirled Jamie around and began making faces down at the bundle in his arms. “Oooh, aren’t you a cutie? Hew-wo dere widdle Kelso.” 

“Kel _sey_. Her name’s _Kelsey_. Jesus, Ric.” 

“Yeah, sure, whatever. Lemme hold her.” 

“The state you’re in? Not a chance!” 

“Aw, _c’mon-!_ “ 

“It’ll be alright,” Layla interjected. She wrestled the baby out of Jamie’s reluctant grip and placed her gently into the Mexican’s eager hands. “Now, remember to support her head-“ 

“I know, I know. I’ve got tons of experience with babies, remember? Jeez! It’s like ya don’t even know me.” 

“We _do_. That’s why I’m against this,” Jamie huffed. 

“Your daddy’s a big ol’ grump, ya know that?” Rictor said into the little girl’s face, tickling her chin. There was a rare expression of complete adoration on his usually serious face. “That’s okay, kiddo. I’ll make sure to pop in plenty of times to spoil you rotten.” 

Jamie turned to Layla and, with complete seriousness, told her, “We’re going to have to move.” 

While they were all grouped around the baby, Star slipped in behind them and walked into the house. He shed his sword harness first and hung it on a hook, followed by his parka and boots. The snow pants came last. Without them, he betrayed a shiver despite the heavy under-layer of clothes he had on. Ever since his disastrous blizzard adventure, his sensitivity to the cold had worsened. He thought it might be psychological rather than physical but was uncomfortable either way. 

He probably would have remained standing in the far corner of the drafty porch to observe everyone fussing over the newborn, but the lights of the Christmas tree caught his eye and he ended up wandering into the living room to get a better look at it. Unlike the other three mutants, he had never seen one in a home before and his expression of awe was much like the one that Jamie had on his face earlier. It seemed a fanciful, frivolous diversion of time and resources, but he had to privately admit that it was quite a sight. 

Wandering over to the fireplace that was stoked and blazing away, he reveled in the heat for a moment before looking up at the digital picture frame sitting on the mantle. He had noticed it the last time he and Ric stayed here, but new pictures had been added since. Predictably, they all focused on the recent addition to the family; tracking the transition from hospital to home. There were almost fifty new pictures and all involving the baby in each and every shot. 

Hardly blinking, Star watched the transition of images from start to finish. He was going on his third time around when Jamie’s voice cut in with: “What the hell are you wearing?” 

Star flinched, as if coming out of a spell. He pulled the hat off and looked down at it. “Ric knitted it for me,” was all he could think of saying. 

“Yes, I did,” Rictor said proudly, entering the room with the baby still in his arms. “That there, folks, is a genuine Jayne Cobb cap.” In a perfect American accent, he drawled, “ _’A man walks down the street in that hat, people know he’s not afraid of anything._ ’ Oh, and that reminds me-“ He handed Kelsey over to Layla and then fished out a bundle of fabric from the back pocket of his jeans. 

Seeing what it was, Jamie chortled. “You have _got_ to be kidding me.” 

Ric settled a miniature version of the hat over the baby’s bald head and then drew back, smiling at his handiwork. “Turns out E-Bay doesn’t sell baby toupees. This’ll have to do.” 

“It’s adorable, Ric,” Layla said, laughing. Kelsey gurgled and kicked her legs as if in agreement. 

“It’s actually not bad. Does your being fiberly-talented count as a secondary mutation?” Jamie said with a grin. 

“Naw. I’ve just had some free time on my hands to practice, is all.” Ric said, his smile flagging a bit. 

“I’ve got fresh coffee brewing,” Layla suddenly piped up. “Jamie, why don’t you take Ric to the kitchen and offer him a mug? Star can help me put Kelsey to bed.” 

Star flashed her a sharp look. “I don’t want to.” 

“Sure you do and I could use the company,” she said, deliberately pulling on his sweater to get him moving. She shot Jamie a glance. 

Recognizing that look in his wife’s face, Jamie passed her a discrete nod. “You two have fun. Ric and I are going to talk.” 

“We are?” Was all the Mexican got out before his former boss pushed him in the direction of the kitchen. “Hey!” 

“Oh, sit down before you fall down,” Jamie said, pulling out a kitchen chair for him. He went to the counter and grabbed the largest mug he could find and filled it. “Still take it the same way?” 

“Screw the coffee. You got any beer?” 

“Yes I do, but not for you.” Jamie slid the mug over to him and sat down with one of his own. 

“Nice hospitality,” Ric grumbled but he ended up drinking it anyway. 

“You only get shitfaced when you’re upset or celebrating. Which is it or do I have to guess?” 

“I’m not in a bad mood. We just got back from visiting Domino. D’you know it’s impossible to match her drink-for-drink even though, I _swear_ , she’s _gotta_ be pushing fifty?” 

“I’ll take that under advisement. What she up to these days?” 

“Shacked up with some prince in Dubai.” 

Jamie choked on a mouthful of hot coffee. He stared at his friend in amazement. “Seriously?” 

Ric chuckled. “It’s been a weird couple of weeks, amigo. It all started out with us needing some solar conversion thingamabobs that only Stark Industries has in stock and that treasure hunt ended at the Avengers front door. As things turned out, Star and Tony Stark had some unresolved business between them from that whole 198 business way back.” 

“Oh Jesus. Did they get into a rumble?” 

“Just the opposite. I guess Tony got major PR flak from going against Captain America at the height of all that crap and had to do some serious damage control. He paid off all the mutants involved in that dust-up in Arizona under the table-like so they wouldn’t go to the press. Star got snatched by Spiral and taken back to Mojoworld before he got his share of the winnings. Domino handled that for him. To make a long story short, we got all the high tech gear we needed for our house for free and Star is now filthy rich.” 

This time, Jamie didn’t just choke. He did a spit take clear across the table. Coughing, he stared in amazement at the grinning Latino. “Are you kidding me? _”_

“I know- Crazy ol’ world, huh?” Ric leaned back in his seat looking enormously satisfied with himself. “Domino took Star’s share of the settlement and invested it. Using her luck powers on the market paid off in a big way. He's a freakin' millionaire!” He clinked his mug against Jamie’s and took a drink. “So, we’ve been globe-trotting around the planet seeing all the sights during the holidays. Stayed in some pretty swanky hotels during our travels, too.” 

“Congratulations. Is there any particular reason why Star looks like his dog died instead of reveling in his new found wealth?” Jamie asked point-blank. 

Ric immediately sobered. Sitting forward again, he gripped both hands around his mug and glowered down at the table. “Arize mind-fucked him worse than I thought. It’s bad, man. I mean, _really_ bad. It’s to the point that Star and I... Well, we’re freakin’ _dating_.” 

Jamie opened his mouth, considered what he’d just heard, and closed it again in order to process it. “Feel free to correct me if I’m wrong here; but, haven’t the two of you been kind of an item since you were teenagers?” 

“I said ‘dating’. Y’know, as in the _do-not-pass-second-base-do-not-get-laid_ kinda dating.” 

“Oh.” 

“Don’t get me wrong, it isn’t like we ever did it before so it’s all kinda novel. It’s also drivin’ me completely crazy. I haven’t had to jerk off this much since I was a kid.” 

“TMI, Ric.” 

“You wanted to talk! _I’m talking!”_ Ric snapped back at him and the table trembled from barely-restrained seismic energy, sending the mugs jittering across its surface. 

Jamie kept his face carefully neutral, but beneath the table he had a fist cocked, ready to hit his thigh and knock out a duplicate or two just in case he needed reinforcements fast. Julio was an emotional person at the best of times, the brunt of those emotions usually being negative. Jamie was used to the odd emotional tremor emanating from the hot-tempered mutant, but things had changed dramatically since their association with X-Factor: This was an extremely sensitive topic, Ric was intoxicated, and there was an infant in the house. He leaned over and placed a hand on the Mexican’s shoulder. He could feel the muscles trembling beneath his grip and it didn’t have anything to do with his power. The younger mutant was a nervous wreck. “It’s all going to work out just fine.” 

“Is it? What if...? Jamie, this has been going on for five months now. I’m scared shitless that-that Arize made him-made him...” His face showed the struggle of getting out the next word. “ _Straight._ I don’t think I could go back to the two of us being just friends again. After all we’ve been through together? _I can’t!”_  

“Oh, for- Calm the hell down!” Not for the first time, Jamie wished desperately that Layla was sitting here counseling Ric instead, but suspected she had her own hands full upstairs. Besides, Ric had never completely warmed up to her and certainly would never have confided in her to begin with; shitfaced or not. “You told me that he said he still loves you, right?”

“Well, yeah.” 

“Has he said it recently?” 

The Mexican’s cheeks were already flushed from drinking, but the hue appeared to deepen when he admitted, “We say it to each other practically every day. Now, I don’t wanna hear shit about how that makes us sound like a pair of girls, okay? ‘Cause-“ 

“Layla and I do the exact same thing. Why should it be any different with the two of you?” 

For a change, Ric had no words for a counter. He was so used to being in defensive mode all the time regarding his sexual orientation that when he encountered someone who genuinely didn’t care, he faltered. 

Getting back on track, Jamie continued. “There’s also been some-“ He cleared his throat to get the words out. “-Some mutual exploration, right? Not just on your end? He’s still showing... uhm, _interest?_ With you?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, he is.” Ric blinked, as if a light bulb had gone off in his head. It was a sight that filled Jamie with an indescribable sense of relief. “An it ain’t like he’s been looking at anyone else. Just the opposite.” He visibly relaxed a little. “Baby steps,” he muttered. 

“What?” 

“It’s like what you told me about being patient. I gotta take it slow. Really slow. Baby steps.” He offered the older man a smile that wasn’t hiding false bravado or covering up his inner fears. It was honest and genuine. It made him look quite handsome. “I can do that. For him, I can do all that and more.” 

“Well, holy shit. I think you just had an epiphany,” Jamie marveled. 

“Yeah? What’s that mean?” 

Getting up from the table, the older mutant headed for the fridge. “It means, screw the coffee. Let's break out the beer.” 

Ric fist-pumped the ceiling. _“Yay!”_


	5. Part Five

Upstairs in the Madrox home there was also conversation, but it took all of Layla’s efforts just to pull it out of Shatterstar while she bathed and then changed Kelsey. He hovered in the doorway of the bathroom and then the nursery, but refused to come into either room. More correctly, he was unwilling to come any closer to the infant than absolutely necessary. Sensing the tension, Kelsey was fretful and uncooperative and her crying kept interrupting the flow of dialog making Star even more distressed. 

Layla had been learning more of the details of what happened at the Avengers mansion. Like Jaime, she was shocked to learn what Domino had done with the hush money from Stark Industries. “It’s amazing how much she was able to wrangle out of the market in such a short time.” 

“The original funds were not just from Stark,” Star explained. “When Cable dissolved X-Force after the Skorn threat was resolved, Domino and I teamed up and worked together.” 

“Oh? Doing what?” 

“Assassination, mostly. It paid the best. Freelance opportunities the rest of the time. I turned the handling of my finances over to her. As long as my clothes were clean and my blades were sharp, I really didn’t care about dealing with frivolous expenses.” Kelsey released a sharp cry, making him wince a little. “I’d lost touch with her when I returned from the Mojoverse. Jamie was a fine employer and provided a roof over my head. Between Rictor and work, I was kept too busy to bother finding her. Stark was the one who told me that she’d been handling my... _Hez b’han gai_... Portfolio? Is that the correct word?” 

“Yes. And now that you’ve touched base, did she turn it all over to you?” 

“No. She gave Ric and me various plastic cards that apparently take the place of cash money. The billing will continue to be handled on her end until I get used to being on earth again.” 

Layla was wrestling Kelsey into her sleeping clothes. “And how is all of that working out for you, Star?” She asked gently, looking over her shoulder at him. 

“We watched a tree-lighting in Moscow. Ate something called a BeaverTail in Montreal. Went on a safari in Africa. Saw the New Year’s fireworks in Tokyo. Attended a-“ 

“That’s not what I meant.” Layla cut in. “I should have been more direct. How are _you_?” 

This time an answer was not as quick. If Jamie had asked the question, Star would have probably deflected it. The former X-Man had been a fine employer but, before X-Factor, he had been an adversary on more than one occasion. Because of that, some old resentments still lingered in the back of Star’s mind. On the other hand, Layla was a psychic anchor; a coveted distinction held by only two other people. What’s more, they had shared something extremely intimate in Latveria. He couldn’t lie to her. “Not good but, then, you are probably already aware of that.” 

“It has nothing to do with any precognitive foresight. I’d have to be blind not to notice how unhappy you are.” 

He blew out an exasperated breath. “This should not be so. I have Julio, I have a home, and now I have money. According to earth vids I should be... _Fekt. Hez b’han gai..._ Over the moon. On cloud nine. Happy as a ham-“ 

“Clam,” Layla corrected. 

He ignored her. “I am none of these things. I am...” His lips twitched and he looked over at Kelsey and then quickly down at the carpet. “... broken.” 

She extended a hand to him. “Star, come over here.” 

He passed her a worried look, alternating to the infant and back. 

“It’ll be alright. Please.” 

Hunching up his shoulders, he finally relented. Layla had not known Shatterstar when he had first come to earth: Battle-hungry, arrogant, and far too aggressive to successfully assimilate with any others who weren’t of a similar mindset. At X-Factor, he had been adventurous, good-natured, and extremely lascivious. The man with her now possessed neither of those personalities. He was reduced to being a blank slate; having to find a new direction and purpose. At the moment his mental state was like a compass needle helplessly spinning around and around, unable to find north. 

Despite his better judgment, he peered over Layla’s shoulder and looked down at the baby on the changing table. At his appearance, Kelsey released a piercing screech and Star recoiled, his left eye flashing. That sight stopped the fearful wail in mid-note. The infant ogled him for a moment and then burst into a tentative smile, waving her arms in excitement. “I think you just made a friend,” Layla whispered to him. 

Fascinated, Star leaned in for a closer look. "She smells... nice." It sounded like there was surprise in his voice. 

Layla smoothed back the fine tuff of hair at the crown of the little girl's head. "All babies smell good." 

"I didn't," he said slowly. He was still looking down but his eyes were far away. "I smelled of blood and filth and fear. It was horrible." 

Sometimes Layla forgot that Star had enhanced senses. They weren't on par with Wolverine's, but they were supernaturally keen and could often be as much of a burden as an asset. In a soft voice, she encouraged, "Talk to me, Gaveedra." 

"I watched myself be born. I took that child- _I took me_ \- away from Dazzler and forced her to believe she'd miscarried. I let myself become a plaything of Mojo's all over again." He stared over at her through burning eyes. "Theresa should not have revived me. I know that it was a gift and that's the only reason I have not fallen on my blade. But I think about it. Every single day, I think of doing that. I have no right to be alive after what I’ve done." 

Layla stared back at him, sucking in a sharp breath. She knew it had been bad, but not nearly so bad as that. "You were placed into an impossible situation," she told him. "There was no action you could have taken that would have ended in anyone's favor; not even Mojo's." 

He frowned at her in confusion. 

"Oh Star, don't you see? You were the template that created an entire race. Without you, there would have been no Longshot. There would have been no rebel alliance. That was all _you_." 

"That was all _Arize_ ," Star said bitterly. "I had absolutely no say in the matter." 

"You were still the start of it all. You have to see the bigger picture here: If you hadn't done what you did, there's no telling how much damage an unresolved paradox would have meant to all of the people you originally crossed paths with: The Cadre Alliance. X-Force. X-Factor. Especially Rictor. For good or ill, what you did allowed everything to continue along its proper course. The circle is complete. It's done. You have to let it go." 

"I should have had that!" He angrily gestured to the changing table where Kelsey was lying, to the crib, and finally to the room full of stuffed toys and hand painted clouds on the ceiling. "I had a mother who knew me. I would have had a real name. _A real life!_ And you're telling me that I have to simply accept that I, alone, am the person responsible for destroying all of that? I can't do it, Layla." 

“You are not the only one who was cheated out of a life,” she said quietly. She placed a finger beneath her right eye where it marked the down stroke of the “M” brand she and Jamie wore as identification of their mutant status. “Do you think that while I was stranded in that other time-line that _this_ was the worst they did to me?” 

Star looked at her in shock. He didn’t know about the specifics of her ordeals in that other Earth any more than she did of his in the Mojoverse. He realized they had both endured about the same span of years under what seemed to be mutually terrible conditions. He bowed his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” 

“Don’t be sorry. Just listen to what I’m saying.” She looked down at Kelsey who appeared to be getting drowsy. All of this talking was lulling her to sleep. “I understand how hard emotions are for you to process. What you’re feeling is perfectly normal.” 

He looked at her doubtfully. “...It is?” 

“Anger, self-loathing, resentment, depression. Even jealousy. Am I close?” 

“As Ric would say: Bull’s eye.” 

“That’s fine. That’s healthy, but holding onto it isn’t. It’s time for you to move on and put it behind you. As you said; you have a home. You have money. But most important of all, you have Rictor and he’s worried sick about you. For the very first time, you can start to enjoy your life. You’re free.” 

“Free,” he echoed, as if in a daze. Of all possible words in the English language, that was the one that carried the most power with him. He stared over at the far wall and became very quiet. 

While he mulled over their conversation, Layla placed Kelsey in her crib. She took out the stuffed animals and made sure she was comfortable. In the beginning, she tried placing her in a sleeping sack on the advice of some prenatal book until Jamie caught one look at her and couldn’t stop laughing at the sight of their daughter looking “like she had been bought at a liquor store”. Kelsey hadn’t liked the confinement of it either. At five weeks of age, it appeared that she was already well on her way to establishing herself as a free spirit. Layla talked and sang to her and, after a period of time, Star willingly approached the crib. That pained tension appeared to have finally left his face and that was enough to settle most of Layla’s fears. “I have some clothes to fold. Talk to her for a while.” 

He looked at her in alarm. “Me? Why?” 

“She likes to hear a man’s voice lull her to sleep. Since her father is entertaining your boyfriend, you’ll have to stand in.” 

“But... I don’t know what to say.” 

“It’s the sound that matters, not the content. You’ll do fine.” She passed him an enigmatic little smile and was out of the room before he could even think of a rebuttal. She was famous for pulling stunts like that and Star realized he was sorely out of practice for it. He nervously cleared his throat as he looked down at the small newborn. Kelsey was staring up at him with half-lidded eyes as if asking, _‘Well? Are you going to amuse me or what?’_  

“I’m... not sure what to tell you,” Shatterstar said awkwardly, swallowing. “You are so very small. I imagine that word comprehension is still far beyond you. I really don’t understand the necessity of this.” 

The little girl blinked and yawned and favored him with one of those endearing little smiles again. Rapt, he leaned in closer. Part of the reason was to capture more of that wonderful smell of clean clothes and baby powder and innocence. The other was fascination over how tiny she was. He had never seen a baby this close before and his suffocating guilt manifested itself into words. “I avoided all contact with me,” he said in a low voice, thinking back to that horrible time in the Mojoverse where he had been forced to witness his own birth. “Rictor delivered me. He comforted me and sang to me while all I did was pretend to look the other way. When I had to be put back into the Source, he cried.” His voice hoarsened and he choked out, “He cried for me.” 

Star finally broke down. His shoulders shook and his tears rolled down his nose and landed on the blanket beside the infant. His grief was always expressed in silence; the result of spending his formative years in slave kennels of one sort or another surrounded by peers who were always on the alert for any sign of weakness to use to their advantage. He had never forgotten the brutal lesson that tears were a potential death sentence on his world. On this planet they were safer to express, but no less difficult to channel. He had only managed to cry once since their return from the Mojoverse. 

“I don’t want to lose him,” his whispered under his breath. “I know he is frustrated with me. I’m trying to give him what he wants, but I am no actor and he can see through the charade. I love him. _I do._ But I have changed so much and none of it is for the better. I am not the man he remembers me being and I don’t know how to explain to him how I feel. I’m not good at that. I fear he’s going to tell me to leave-“ His voice broke and he just let the tears run unbidden down his face, sobbing in silence. 

Whenever he felt intense emotions; fear, anger, or grief, his left eye glowed. Right now, it was doing it again. Kelsey made a curious inquiring sound at the sight and reached up to try to touch the source. Star instinctively intercepted that tiny flailing hand and, at the contact, felt an immediate click in his mind that he now recognized as a mental connection to his teleportation ability. Somehow, in some unknown way, baby Kelsey had just made herself become an anchor. 

“Oh,” he said in a quiet, wondering voice, blinking at her in amazement. Kelsey gurgled in apparent pleasure and her impossibly tiny fingers grasped one of his. The touch was barely detectable, but it seemed to ease his suffering and help clear his mind. The tears stopped and he cocked his head to the side, considering the child for a long while before breaking out into a tentative smile. “I don’t know what you did, but I feel better. Thank you.” 

Kelsey dropped her arm in exhaustion and blinked sleepily up at him, the remnants of that angelic smile still on her face as her eyes, dazzlingly blue, drifted closed in preparation for sleep. 

Star crossed his arms on the sidebar of the crib and rested his chin on them, watching her curiously. “You are safe here,” he whispered. “You are deeply loved by two formidable humans. Unfortunately, you are born under the sign of the X and that does not bode well for your future, little one. This is a confusing and dangerous world for you to grow up into. All I can offer as comfort is that you can be assured that you will have strong allies at your back. Rictor’s allegiance goes without saying. I, too, pledge my service to you. I swear on my blades that much at least. I only hope that is enough.” 

“And I hope it won’t ever be necessary,” Layla whispered from where she was sitting on the bed she shared with Jamie. She was listening to the baby monitor that was on the nightstand and the thought of folding clothes was long forgotten. “Sometimes I know stuff, but I don’t know everything.” But she had fears, like all new mothers did, and the burden of being a mutant only compounded them. All she could be thankful for was the love and support of her closest friends. 

When she returned to the room, Kelsey was deep asleep and Star was in the same spot staring down at her, watching her breath. He still had his head resting on his arms and favored Layla with a shy smile when she came up alongside of him. “This is better than a vid,” he said in a hushed voice. 

“I would have thought you’d be bored to tears.” 

“I would have, too. Perhaps... _before_ that would have been so. Things change.” His smile slanted. “People change, too.” 

She wrapped an arm across his broad shoulders and kissed the side of his cheek. “You’re going to be okay.” 

He didn’t respond but, for the very first time since coming back from the Mojoverse, he began to believe she might actually be right.


	6. Part Six

Layla and Star continued to talk until singing started drifting up the stairs from the kitchen. Not good singing, either. And it was in stereo, meaning that Jamie had joined in. Layla looked at her watch, amazed by how much time had passed. Star cocked his head to the side, listening. “That song is ‘Tequila Loves Me’. It is usually the precursor to Julio throwing up and then passing out.” 

Alarm crossed Layla’s features. “You need to get him out of my house!” 

_“Madam Tequila's a fine senorita,_  
_All my compadres concur._  
_She won't lie. She won't leave in your hour of need-_  
_So we're raising our glasses to her!_  
  
_“They say 'valmos hecharlo el traga'_  
_It means 'drink it all down 'til you see-_  
_The bottom of the glass and it's kickin' your ass'_  
_Boys, this next round’s on meeeee-”_

“Za’s Vid, that is wretched,” Star muttered under his breath as he and Layla went downstairs and walked into the kitchen. As to be expected, it was quite a sight that greeted them. Jamie and Ric had a history of drinking together that went all the way back to X-Corporation in Paris. Even at X-Factor, if they were alone together near a bar within walking distance, it didn’t take them long to revert back to type. 

“Beloved!” Jamie called when he saw his wife. He raised his near-empty bottle in toast. The table was filled with at least eight more, all empty. 

“Loverman!” Ric greeted, not to be outdone. For some reason, he was sitting on the floor with his back against the sink. A bottle of beer was nestled securely against his crotch. 

Layla cocked an eyebrow at Star and mouthed the word in silent query. 

“It’s the title of a Metallica song,” he responded, straight faced. 

Her lips twitched. “Suuure it is. I know what he’s talking about, remember?” She was pleased to see a hint of color rise on his cheeks and playfully elbowed him, receiving an answering chuckle in response. _You really are going to be okay_ , she thought with genuine relief. Two months ago, she’d been dealing with a heightened degree of worry that she thought meant trouble with the baby or the birth. Because of his Mojoverse origins, Star skewed her prophetic insight. She hadn’t realized he had been the trigger. What would have happened if that snow plow driver hadn’t spotted him on the highway and taken him straight to the ER? The thought of that potentially disastrous outcome would haunt her for months. It also served as a sobering reminder that no matter how self-assured she acted; she didn’t know everything. _Except-_  

She rounded on her husband. “You’re in big trouble, mister!” 

He cocked his chin in that imperious way he had back when he’d led the team at X-Factor. “I’m simply celebrating my status as a proud new father in proper form with my good ol’ friend here.” 

“Tha’s ri- Hey! Who you callin old? You have, like, six years on me!” 

“It’s seven, smartass.” Jamie faltered and blinked at what he’d said. “Shit. _I’m_ old.” 

“It is time for us to leave, Julio,” Star said, hauling his partner effortlessly to his feet. Keeping him up on them was another matter entirely. He had to wrap one arm around his neck to manage the feat. 

“Great idea. When we ged home, I’ma gonna nibble on that sixy sex-pack of yours ‘til you can’t friggin stand it,” the Mexican slurred into his ear. He thought he was whispering, but everyone could plainly hear him. 

Jamie grimaced. “I think I’ma gonna be sick.” 

“It’s a procal- praclo- It’s a statement of my love for th’ guy,” Ric groused. “Sucks t’ be you if ya can’t stand it.” 

“No, I mean I’m really gonna be sick-” Pressing a hand to his mouth, he pelted out of the kitchen for the nearest bathroom. “Make sure you lift the lid this time!” Layla shouted after him. She was about to call out some more advice but was drowned out by the sound of a heaving stomach. It was much too loud to signify that he’d reached his destination. She rolled her eyes and shook her head. _“Men!”_  

“Yeah. Ain’t they great?” Rictor was looking adoringly up at Star with a goofy smile on his flushed face. He began spouting a hushed babble of extremely intimate suggestions in a mixture of Cadre and Spanish that he referred to as “Cadrish” when they were alone together. Despite the utter nonsense of the sentence structure, its implications were as clear as day and more than a little embarrassing to hear in public (even if no one but Star could understand it). 

“Can you help me get him dressed?” He asked Layla in exasperation. At the embarrassed look on his face, Layla took pity on them both and assisted. By the time they managed to get Ric’s boots tied, she quipped, “Jeez. This was almost as bad as getting Kelsey into her jumper.” 

Star muttered, “You don’t have to carry him.” 

“Ah. Good point.” 

“Nobody needs t’ carry no one!” Ric huffed, lurching to his feet. He stepped out of the front door, tripped over something, and promptly face-planted into the snowdrift beside the steps. With a squawk, he rolled down it while clawing at the snow that had gone down the front of his coat. He began to thrash about on the landing like a fish out of water, cursing a blue streak. Layla and Star watched his theatrics for a few seconds before bursting into laughter. 

“I’m gonna kill you!” Ric shouted, pointing. The gesture wasn’t aimed for the pair in the doorway, but at the ginger cat crouched on the step glaring right back at him. 

“Is that Maria?” Star had become quite attached to the barn cat that first slept with him in the hayloft. For the two weeks he and Ric stayed at the Madrox farm, the cat had never been very far from his side. 

Layla picked her up and petted her. The cat tolerated the attention, but she was clearly fixated on the Mojoworlder and started purring when he scratched the back of her neck. “Yes. She really missed you. Here.” She passed the cat over to him. “Consider it a late present.” 

Star hugged the feline and looked back at Layla like a child on Christmas morning. With that silly yellow hat and overstuffed parka, the comparison wasn’t too far off the mark. “I can have her?” He asked in hushed disbelief. 

“Jamie’s allergic to cats and she needs a better home than that drafty old barn. I can’t think of anywhere more perfect than your island paradise.” 

“Rictor! Look what Layla gave me!” Star called over to his partner, proudly displaying his gift. 

Sitting on the ground and still brushing himself off, the Mexican’s scowl of displeasure deepened. “... Great. I hate cats.” 

“I’m sure it’s mutual,” Layla said. 

Ric muttered something under his breath as he slowly climbed back to his feet and wobbled in place while collecting his bearings. It sounded suspiciously like _“-another reason to hate pussy-“_ but before Layla could manage a retort, Star was down the steps and handing him the cat so he could pull out his swords in preparation for a transport. 

Ric and the cat looked warily at one another. “Huh. You’ve sure porked it on last time I saw you,” he grumbled, repositioning the plump feline for a better grip before Star’s teleportation gateway spooked it. He rubbed its belly curiously. Despite his intoxicated state, his eyes widened in realization. He whirled around to confront the blond who was smirking back at him. “Layla! You sneaky b-“ 

The X-shaped portal appeared and he, Star, and the cat went through it. 

“Buh-bye,” Layla quipped, adding a wave to the last flickering particles of the disappearing gateway. She swore she could still hear the barest hint of Rictor’s curse lingering in the cold night air. 

She went inside and found her husband on his knees in front of the bathroom trying to clean up the mess he’d made using one of her good tea towels. “I know, I know,” he muttered when she knelt down beside him. “Should’ve known better than to try and out drink Rictor. What the hell was I thinking? He was an X-Force brat for god’s sake!” 

“The guy can put it away,” she agreed. “I got the last laugh, though. I gave Maria to Star.” 

Jamie looked up in surprise. “Did you tell him she was pregnant?” 

“I didn’t need to. Ric figured it out pretty quickly.” She started to chuckle. “You should have seen his face.” 

Jamie was wearing a crooked grin. “They’ll make wonderful parents.” 

There was a span of silence as the pair looked at one another until they simultaneously burst into uncontrollable laugher. Layla collapsed to the floor beside him, braying shrill giggles that were almost hysterics. It had more to do with sheer relief than humor; the knowledge that things were going to turn out for the best- not just for Star, but for Ric. And also for her own husband and daughter. A tiny bit of her intoxicating relief was also for herself. For all of her insight into future events, it was clear that not everything was mapped out in detail. She had known she would marry Jamie. Knows it will be a long and happy marriage. And yet, for all of that assurance, Kelsey had not been in those planted memories. That wonderful, unexpected treasure peacefully sleeping upstairs in her crib had been a blissful unknown the likes of which she hoped would happen again. And _again-!?_  

Jamie’s laughter tapered off and he stared up at the ceiling, still smiling. “I know we haven’t talked about it. Hell, you might even have some other people in mind, but I’ve been doing the roll-call in my head and the only two people who come out on top for-“ 

“I think Rictor and Star would be wonderful godparents for Kelsey,” Layla cut in, clearly thinking along the same track. She thought of the oath that Shatterstar had pledged to the newborn and sobered a little at the thought of such violence ever having to be necessary. “Although they’re going to have a devil of a fight over who’s going to be called the Godmother.” 

For some reason, that sent Jamie off again. “I’m pretty sure Guido already settled that argument,” he managed to get out between drunken snickers. 

Layla looked at him curiously. “And here I thought I was in the loop of everything,” she sighed, getting to her feet. She started tugging on her husband’s arm and Jamie managed to get up, holding onto the bannister of the stairs for support. At the sudden altitude, his face quickly lost its happy flush. “Uh-oh-“ 

This time, she managed to get him into the bathroom for him to hit his target. 

 

* * *

 

Just as Rictor suspected, the instant he and Star stepped out of the gateway the cat went into a berserker-mode that would have made Wolverine look on with pride. There was a slash of heat across Ric's neck and he shouted in pain and instinctively threw the thrashing animal away before it had the chance to bite him. It landed hard on the ground, scrambled to its feet and streaked into the jungle. 

"Maria!" Star was immediately in pursuit. It didn't matter that they were back on their beloved tropical island or that it was pitch black except for the lights coming from the single large house nearby. Still dressed in his winter clothes and armed with his swords, the Mojoworlder charged into the dense foliage until the only thing Ric could hear was his voice calling for the cat over and over. 

For a few seconds, Ric debated joining in the chase. Then he took a step and tripped, almost falling again. He was too drunk for a romp in the jungle looking for a feral cat at this time of night. Star was the one with the heightened senses. "Aw, screw it," he muttered, rubbing his neck and seeing the smear of blood across his fingers from the cat scratches. If Star wanted to chase after the stupid thing, let him at it. 

Ric stumbled towards the house, shedding his winter gear as he went. By the time he let himself inside, he was only wearing his underwear. He went upstairs to the master bathroom and made a half-assed effort to clean the scratches on his neck. After he was done, he went into the bedroom and collapsed on the bed and promptly passed out. 

When he opened his eyes again it was coming on dawn and he looked blearily around the room wondering what had woken him up. It dawned on him that he could hear Star's voice downstairs. The warrior was speaking quietly to something, suddenly called out, "Maria!" again, and then settled into a grumbled collection of choice Cadre expletives. He was still cursing when he came upstairs and entered their bedroom. 

Ric rolled over and turned on the lamp on the night stand and saw his partner was still dressed in his winter gear, except now it was soaked and splattered with mud. "You found her?" 

"Bai," Star grunted, pulling off his hat and smoothening back his sweat-soaked hair in a fretful gesture. His face was flushed but Ric couldn't be sure if it was from his exertions in the muggy heat or from something else. "I brought her into the house but she panicked again and ran away from me." It appeared that he was taking the cat’s behavior personally. 

"It's normal, Star. You don't know much about pets, but some of them can be skittish. Especially some ol’ barn cat. Just let her explore the house on her own. She’ll come around when she calms down." Ric vaguely remembered Layla’s smug look just as they teleported away. "You need to know something: The stupid thing is pregnant." 

Star looked at him sharply. “She’s carrying an infant?” 

“Several of ‘em. The babies are called kittens and a cat can have as many as five or six in a litter. Layla knew all about it. That’s why she pawned the thing off on you.” 

“We will have a house full of cats!” Star said with a wide smile. 

“Oh no, we won’t!” Ric shot back. 

An old mulish expression crossed the Mojoworlder’s face. It was a sight Ric hadn’t seen since that whole Hell on Earth bullshit started. “We will keep four.” Star’s voice had dropped to an assertive growl. 

Rictor got to his feet and stomped over, poking the taller man in the chest. “Don’t you let yourself think for one second that I don’t know why you picked _that_ damned name for _that_ damned cat. It’s bad enough you’re forcing me to live with a four-legged reminder of who you lost your virginity to, so we’re only keeping the _one_. You get me, mano?” 

“Three.” 

“No!” 

“Two. I will go no lower and that is _only_ if we find exceptional forever-homes for the rest of the- _Hez b’han gai_... litter. I do not want to feel bad every time that ASPCA commercial airs.” 

“Fucking Sarah McLachlan.” Rubbing his face with a heavy hand, Ric took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. He sat down on the bed in surrender. “Fine. Two. But you’re cleaning the litter box. Understand? I’m not doing _any_ of that shit.” 

“Clean the what?” 

“Don’t worry. You’ll find out soon enough,” the Mexican said, waving it off with a heavy hand. He eyed the redhead. “Shit. You must be roasting in that get-up. Take it off and try and get some sleep.” 

Star nodded absently and began removing his heavy winter gear, lost in thought. It wasn't until he was stripped down to his thermal underwear that he noticed Rictor staring at him with a wistful, longing expression on his face. "Julio? Are you alright?" 

Ric blinked up at him, as if coming out of a spell. He was vaguely aware that he had an erection. Watching Star undress, moving in that unconsciously graceful manner he possessed, always turned him on. "Huh? Oh sorry, man." He blushed a bit and self-consciously covered his groin. "I know the rules: Look, but don't touch. It's just damned hard to ignore you when you- I'm still half in the bag and- I just want..." He gave up trying to explain himself and just blurted out. "You're sexy as all hell, okay? I can't fucking help it!" 

"I know this period of abstinence has been difficult for you," Star murmured. 

 _Ay estrella, you have absolutely no friggin' idea,_ the Mexican thought, eying that perfectly ripped body standing so close to him. He'd gone through long dry spells before, back when his depression hadn't made it much of an issue and he'd still been secretly struggling with his sexual orientation. Star was his trigger, always had been, and these last five months of them dancing around each other had just about eroded his one last existing nerve. His dark brown eyes saw the concern etched in Star's handsome face, then he let his eyes wander across that sculpted muscular chest and down to those defined abdominals. He glanced longingly at the desired prize below the waist and then looked down to the carpet, at a loss of what to do or say. He was vaguely aware of Star moving but didn't react until he felt the warrior's strong hand grab one of his and place it on the waistband of his underwear. He looked up in surprise. 

"Finish undressing me," Star told him in a husky voice. His eyes which, lately, had been so dull they were nearly grey, were now back to a piercing shade of blue. 

For a few seconds, Ric's mouth worked before he managed to stammer out, "I- Are you sure?" 

Star nodded slowly and closed his eyes. He felt the fabric being tugged down his hips; felt tentative fingers touch and caress him and he did not flinch. He did not draw back. He shivered as the inquisitive contact became more brazen and familiar. There was no flashback to Arize or to the clones he'd serviced. For the very first time, there was just him and Rictor and that wonderful stroking that brought out a rash of excited gooseflesh throughout his entire body. It was a good feeling. It was liberating. The word "free" whispered in the back of his mind and he let out a pent up breath that felt like he had been holding in for seven long, miserable years. 

Without warning, he gripped Ric's arms and threw him back against the bed, possessively straddling his waist and staring down at him. 

Ric swallowed, dwarfed by the huge warrior poised over him. His breathing sped up in excitement. "Am I dreaming?" he asked in a trembling voice. 

Positioning his arms on either side of Ric's head, the Mojoworlder resolutely shook his head. That mane of vibrant red hair framed his face. "This is no dream." 

"Star, I-" Ric had to grapple with his emotions as he ran his trembling hands along his partner's ribcage. "If we stop now, or you freak out - I... Look, I'm just gonna break down and cry like a girl. Seriously." 

"The time for tears is over," Star said, and sealed the deal by bending down and tenderly licking the cat scratches along Julio's neck. 

Less than fifteen minutes later, the entire Isla Socorro was subject to minor tremor that sent all of the birds in the jungle to the air in a cacophony of squawks and screeches. Several fishermen in the marina on the far side of the island were getting ready for an early morning run. The natives glanced at each other, holding their gear down until the tremor passed, and then went back to their work as if the event had never taken place. They were accompanied by two gringos who looked around the dock in disbelief. 

"Holy Christ!" exclaimed one tourist. "Was that an earthquake? Is there going to be a tsunami?" His companion looked like he was about to shit his pants. 

"It's alright," spoke up Tito Perales, the oldest fisherman on the island. He was often seen selling fish to a pair of young men who came and went quite frequently even though everyone knew they didn't own a boat. Tito was the only one they ever spoke to and he seemed to be the only individual who truly understood what was going on. 

"Alright?" Piped up the harried tourist. "We just got hit by a freakin' earthquake! I thought this island was stable." 

"It is stable," old Tito told them. He suddenly broke out into a dazzling smile that crinkled the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes. "It just means the island is happy." 

"Happy" was actually an understatement. In their bed lying side by side, Ric and Star stared up at the cracked ceiling of their house, too spent to bother investigating the rest of the damage. Pawing blindly for his boyfriend, Rictor managed to grab his lover's hand and said in a hoarse voice, "Dude, we should have gotten a fuckin' cat five months ago."

Star threw his head back against the pillow and laughed long and hard.

 

* * *

 

~Fin.

**Author's Note:**

> Google "Jayne Cobb cap" and you'll see what Star looks like. It comes from my favorite Joss Whedon show "Firefly" (RIP).


End file.
